i used to be scared of my little sister getting a Facebook but all she uses it for is to make albums of leonardo dicaprio doing various things like right now she has one dedicated to him being confused so i’m actually really proud of her
she made a new album and dedicated it to me
she strikes again
attempting to hide your desperate need for breath after a short flight of stairs
Forth, and fear no darkness! Arise! Arise, Riders of Theoden! Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered! A sword day, a red day, ere the sun rises!
It’s an Anglepoise because you press your face too close to the page when you read and there’s never enough light. And you won’t wear glasses because you say your nose is too small, and with glasses you’d look like a mole. Which you don’t. Wouldn’t. They’d suit you. You’d look just as..fairly beautiful as you are. It’s yellow because you said no one wants a yellow lamp. So I thought if I got it for you in yellow, then maybe no one would steal it from your desk. I do give these things quite a lot of consideration, you see. The devil’s in the detail.
imagine modern au marauders dog-shaming Sirius for getting out of hand in animagus form
As an actress, I realize that viewers are entitled to have whatever feelings they want about the characters they watch. But as a human being, I’m concerned that so many people react to Skyler with such venom. Could it be that they can’t stand a woman who won’t suffer silently or “stand by her man”? That they despise her because she won’t back down or give up? Or because she is, in fact, Walter’s equal? But I finally realized that most people’s hatred of Skyler had little to do with me and a lot to do with their own perception of women and wives. Because Skyler didn’t conform to a comfortable ideal of the archetypical female, she had become a kind of Rorschach test for society, a measure of our attitudes toward gender.”
hey i just matthew and this is crazy
It’s a very Greek idea, and a very profound one. Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what could be more terrifying and beautiful, to souls like the Greeks or our own, than to lose control completely? To throw off the chains of being for an instant, to shatter the accident of our mortal selves? Euripides speaks of the Maenads: head thrown I back, throat to the stars, “more like deer than human being.” To be absolutely free! One is quite capable, of course, of working out these destructive passions in more vulgar and less efficient ways. But how glorious to release them in a single burst! To sing, to scream, to dance barefoot in the woods in the dead of night, with no more awareness of mortality than an animal! These are powerful mysteries. The bellowing of bulls. Springs of honey bubbling from the ground. If we are strong enough in our souls we can rip away the veil and look that naked, terrible beauty right in the face; let God consume us, devour us, unstring our bones. Then spit us out reborn.